


Silk Scarves & Safe Words

by glorifiedscapegoat



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga), No. 6 - All Media Types, No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: Aftercare, Healthy Communication, Light BDSM, Light Role-Playing, M/M, post-reunion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:00:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24628930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glorifiedscapegoat/pseuds/glorifiedscapegoat
Summary: Prequel toBlindfolds, Silk, and Lace. When Nezumi accidentally brings home a silk scarf from the theater, Shion suggests he and Nezumi try experimenting in the bedroom.
Relationships: Nezumi/Shion (No. 6)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37





	Silk Scarves & Safe Words

**Author's Note:**

> Ever since I wrote _Blindfolds, Silk, and Lace_ a little longer than a year ago, I've been tinkering with the idea of writing more based on Shion and Nezumi venturing into the BDSM scene. I don't think either of them would be interested in straitjackets, suspension devices, or sex toys of that nature. However, I _do_ think the idea of role-playing, light restraint, and costumes seems right up their alley.
> 
> That being said, there's a point where all adventures into BDSM must begin, and so I wanted to write Shion and Nezumi's first experiment with bondage and all the healthy communication/relationship building fun that comes up because of it.
> 
> This short fic was exciting for me to write, but also a bit daunting, primarily because my hand is still acting up due to the carpal tunnel. Therefore, for much of this particular fic, including the smut scenes, I had to dictate them so my text-to-speech software could transcribe them.
> 
> These are the lengths I am willing to go for healthy communication content and smut!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this!

“You want me to _what?_ ”

Shion’s shoulders shot to his ears. His face burned, and a tremulous haze of gray radiated on the periphery of his sight line.

He couldn’t look up. Couldn’t see the look of shock on Nezumi’s face. He was sitting on the other end of the kitchen table, in their two-bedroom apartment that was a ten minute walk from the office where Shion worked and a five minute jog from the theater where Nezumi worked.

The moment those damnable words left Shion’s mouth―after he’d spent hours laying in bed that morning agonizing over whether or not this was the best time to ask, visibly worried to the point that Nezumi finally _demanded_ to know what Shion was so anxious about―Nezumi’s eyes had gone wide.

“Nevermind,” Shion said. “It was stupid. Just forget I said anything.”

“Oh, no.” Nezumi set his coffee cup on the table. It had been dangling precariously from his fingertips, surprise rendering his grip almost useless. “You’re not off the hook that easily.”

Shion covered his face with his hands. “Nezumi, _please_. Can we just drop it?”

“Hell no.”

“ _Nezumi_.”

“What did you say?”

Shion could hear the amusement in Nezumi’s tone. His four years on the road had smoothed some of the edges in his personality, and his time living with Shion again in earnest had continued to wear down the barbs Nezumi used to defend himself from the rest of the world. Even so, Nezumi was a sarcastic creature by nature, and Shion wouldn’t have traded his quick wit and teasing for anything―even if now, he was the butt of the joke.

“Nezumi,” Shion said through his fingers. “I’m sorry I said anything. Can we please, please, _please_ just forget it happened?”

“Hell of a thing you want me to just forget. You can’t just drop something like that at the breakfast table and not expect me to ask for some clarification.”

Shion groaned.

“If you won’t say it, then I will.”

“Please don’t.”

The chair creaked as Nezumi leaned back. “Let’s see.”

“Nezumi, I’m serious.”

“It seems to me...” Nezumi went on, dragging the words out.

“Come on.”

“That you asked me if I could―”

“I asked if you’d tie me up!” Shion blurted. “ _There?_ Are you happy?”

Nezumi threw his head back and laughed. Shion banged his forehead against the table. He’d just woken up from a decent night’s sleep, at least seven hours of pleasant dreams in the arms of the boy he loved most, and he’d never felt so drained in his life.

The kitchen chair creaked as Nezumi leaned across the table and ran his fingers through Shion’s hair with a light-hearted, “Aw, there, there.” One of the chair legs must have been coming loose. Shion secretly willed it to fall apart so Nezumi would have something else to direct his attention on.

“You’re the worst,” Shion said into the tabletop.

“I know,” Nezumi soothed.

“I’m serious.”

Nezumi snorted.

Shion lifted his head and Nezumi withdrew his hand, giving Shion a pleasant smile as if he hadn’t been trying Shion’s patience. Shion sighed and ran his fingers through his messy hair. The cool Spring temperatures allowed him to take a shower later in the morning than in the summer months. He and Nezumi liked to cuddle, and it was torture in the blistering heat. Shion had taken a hot shower after work yesterday before diving into the weekend.

In all honesty, he’d been looking forward to spending time with Nezumi. Now that the winter plays were finished, Nezumi had two weeks of free time before rehearsals for Spring performances began. Shion’s office had reduced their hours to allow their employees time to spend with family. Shion had insisted on it to avoid working their employees to the bone, permitting a week off every four months.

Shion had been looking forward to it.

Now, he wished he had work to scurry off to in order to avoid the conversation he knew was coming.

“So,” Nezumi said. “What brought this on? And _no_ ,” he added, giving Shion a piercing look over the rim of his mug as he raised it to his lips, “we’re not dropping it.”

Shion ran his hand down his face. Nezumi was a man of his word. He wouldn’t let it go, not even if Shion got on his knees and begged him, so there was nothing to do except face the music.

“Do you remember that scarf you brought home?” Shion asked.

“From _Les Misérables?_ ”

“Yes, that one.” Shion could still see Nezumi toiling away on stage as Fantine, struggling to provide a decent life for young Cosette while the weight of the world pressed down around her. Nezumi had hidden his long hair beneath a purple scarf after Fantine had been forced to sell her hair.

After the final performance, the scarf had accidentally made it home with Nezumi. He’d shoved it on top of the dresser, intending to bring it back when Spring rehearsals began. There was no point in him venturing out to the theater during his time off just to return a scarf the costume department wouldn’t care about.

And yet, for the better part of the week, when Shion came home from work, the scarf had tormented him. It was a lovely shade of purple, and it looked soft. Shion had loved how it looked on Nezumi, but part of him wondered how it would feel to wrap the scarf around his wrists.

The thought had come to him late one night, after he and Nezumi had kissed until they became too tired to keep going. Nezumi’s hands had found their way to Shion’s wrists, pinning them to the pillow beside his head. Shion hadn’t fought it. The restraint excited him. He didn’t feel at all comfortable with something harder―the thought of rope biting into his skin made his stomach curl, and handcuffs made him want to cry―but imagining something soft restricting his movements made his heart flutter.

Shion hadn’t worked up the courage to ask Nezumi. The question had died on his tongue whenever he thought it might be a good time to mention it. He worried that asking might make Nezumi look at him as if there was something seriously wrong with him.

Nezumi had been so accepting of what Shion wanted―his restrictions and curiosities―that Shion didn’t want to keep questing in case he discovered the end to Nezumi’s acceptance.

But Nezumi needled him until Shion finally blurted the words out over their morning coffee.

“ _I was wondering if you’d be willing to tie me up_.”

Shion exhaled and pressed his fingers into his temples. He could feel the beginnings of a headache forming.

“So you’re thinking you want to try bondage?”

Shion flinched.

“Never would have pegged you for the kinky type.”

“You’re… not upset?”

Nezumi raised an eyebrow. “Why would I be upset? You think that’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever had someone say to me?”

“No, probably not.”

“Get this.” Nezumi leaned across the table and lowered his voice. “When I was sixteen, some guy I lived with told me he was drawn to me. Now _that_ was pretty weird.”

The good-natured look on Nezumi’s face quelled some of the anxiety twisting in Shion’s lower stomach. The sunlight dancing behind the flowery blue curtains in their kitchen windows made Shion realize it would be a nice day for him and Nezumi to go for a walk together.

“Promise you’re not mad?” Shion asked.

“I’m not mad.”

Shion’s shoulders relaxed. Now that the dam had been broken, there was nothing to do but let the water continue flowing until there was nothing left. “So, what do you think? Is that something you’d be interested in trying?”

“I mean, I’m not against it.” Nezumi set his coffee mug back on the table. The pot was still half full, and Nezumi typically drank three cups in the morning. He had just finished his second. “You’re thinking of me tying your hands together with a scarf, right?” He paused, a strange, almost uncomfortable look crossing his face. “Or... did you want to tie _me_ up?”

“No.” Shion shifted in his seat. “I was hoping you’d do it to me.”

Nezumi visibly relaxed and hummed thoughtfully. “Well, we _do_ have the headboard for it.”

Shion’s heart sang.

**Author's Note:**

> Interested in some more awesome No.6 stuff and other random nonsense? Then come hang out with me on tumblr: **https://glorifiedscapegoat.tumblr.com/**


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